Prendergast's Chronicle of Thought and Record of Actions Taken
12 May 509
Exhiliration and terror. I have become well-acquainted with these two emotions over the past weeks, but at no time so much as when I was 'captive' aboard the Irroquin's Price.
(There was also Nausea, but the less said of that category of experience, the better. This is the first occasion upon which I have felt healthy enough to write since my arrival in Kessid, and even the inscription of that odious word summons forth ominous tremors in my innards.)
The storms which threatened to capsize the Price were terrific. Sailors' tales are known for being exaggerated, but after my experiences during this voyage I find myself more willing to heed them. I feel it is a miracle that I sit here writing this rather than preparing for eternity in cold and darkness as a prisoner of Maréatta. Yet the sailors now laugh and brag about it over tankards of grog. Was this harrowing venture typical of their experiences? I should think myself fortunate to be a wizard rather than a sailor, for to tamper with the threads of the Universe seems to me a far safer venture than to live and work upon the tempestuous waves. Yet I think I envy them. What freedom they must feel! What wonders they must daily witness!
For my recovery's sake, I shall endeavor to exercise brevity. When I arrived at the Pick & Chisel - an inn of satisfactory repute in the Masons' Quarter to which I was directed by an agreeable Dwarf trader in Kura'Stan - I was miserably ill. Sometime in the night there was a terrible ruckus out-of-doors, such that even through my shuttered windows I could not ignore the sound of yelling and breaking glass. Even afterward, the barking of dogs in the street would not cease for hours, it seemed! By morning I learned that there had been a brawl between guild members - something I am not unfamiliar with even in Raslowe. Nonetheless, I resolved to find a less noisome lodging once I was of sufficient health to walk the streets.
Thus far in my travels I have learned that there are very few, if any, who are in need of a Wizard of my pedigree. Æthyric metaphysicks are not in the common arena of practice, much less familiarity, and so when offering my services as a specialist in such topics I have met with confusion at best. Indeed, I have found precious little employment amongst the common folk, and that which I have found has drawn solely upon my literacy. Were it my understanding of scholarly tomes that was requested, even that would be satisfactory to me, but I am paid only for my ability to read and write!
By now I have resolved myself to this fate. I am more in need of coin than I am of dignity, and since pride cannot pay for food and lodging (or Fraternal dues, or tuition debts...), I am in the public eye a scribe. Nonetheless, this is Irroquin, "where all things may be found at a price," as the hawkers claim; and so, conversely, it is my hope that there will be someone who will come to Kessid seeking a scholarly Wizard with a bag of coin in hand. May I be the first to find him!
Addendum
Success! My diligence in monitoring the message boards posted by the Hall of Travelers has finally been rewarded, or so I hope. A fellow named William Baker has specifically requested the services of a Wizard, and the requirements he lists appear to match me to the letter! According to the notice, I am to ask after him at the Cocking Crow Tavern, in the Artisan's Quarter, after supper.
I must ready myself now, as I do not dare risk losing this opportunity to another.
Prendergast's Chronicle of Thought and Record of Actions Taken
12 May 509
Exhiliration and terror. I have become well-acquainted with these two emotions over the past weeks, but at no time so much as when I was 'captive' aboard the Irroquin's Price.(There was also Nausea, but the less said of that category of experience, the better. This is the first occasion upon which I have felt healthy enough to write since my arrival in Kessid, and even the inscription of that odious word summons forth ominous tremors in my innards.)
The storms which threatened to capsize the Price were terrific. Sailors' tales are known for being exaggerated, but after my experiences during this voyage I find myself more willing to heed them. I feel it is a miracle that I sit here writing this rather than preparing for eternity in cold and darkness as a prisoner of Maréatta. Yet the sailors now laugh and brag about it over tankards of grog. Was this harrowing venture typical of their experiences? I should think myself fortunate to be a wizard rather than a sailor, for to tamper with the threads of the Universe seems to me a far safer venture than to live and work upon the tempestuous waves. Yet I think I envy them. What freedom they must feel! What wonders they must daily witness!
For my recovery's sake, I shall endeavor to exercise brevity. When I arrived at the Pick & Chisel - an inn of satisfactory repute in the Masons' Quarter to which I was directed by an agreeable Dwarf trader in Kura'Stan - I was miserably ill. Sometime in the night there was a terrible ruckus out-of-doors, such that even through my shuttered windows I could not ignore the sound of yelling and breaking glass. Even afterward, the barking of dogs in the street would not cease for hours, it seemed! By morning I learned that there had been a brawl between guild members - something I am not unfamiliar with even in Raslowe. Nonetheless, I resolved to find a less noisome lodging once I was of sufficient health to walk the streets.
Thus far in my travels I have learned that there are very few, if any, who are in need of a Wizard of my pedigree. Æthyric metaphysicks are not in the common arena of practice, much less familiarity, and so when offering my services as a specialist in such topics I have met with confusion at best. Indeed, I have found precious little employment amongst the common folk, and that which I have found has drawn solely upon my literacy. Were it my understanding of scholarly tomes that was requested, even that would be satisfactory to me, but I am paid only for my ability to read and write!
By now I have resolved myself to this fate. I am more in need of coin than I am of dignity, and since pride cannot pay for food and lodging (or Fraternal dues, or tuition debts...), I am in the public eye a scribe. Nonetheless, this is Irroquin, "where all things may be found at a price," as the hawkers claim; and so, conversely, it is my hope that there will be someone who will come to Kessid seeking a scholarly Wizard with a bag of coin in hand. May I be the first to find him!
Addendum
Success! My diligence in monitoring the message boards posted by the Hall of Travelers has finally been rewarded, or so I hope. A fellow named William Baker has specifically requested the services of a Wizard, and the requirements he lists appear to match me to the letter! According to the notice, I am to ask after him at the Cocking Crow Tavern, in the Artisan's Quarter, after supper.
I must ready myself now, as I do not dare risk losing this opportunity to another.